White Coats
by BennyBrownBrown
Summary: Haven-13 was their home. But their home was not invincible. And the disaster of the Oracle-5 program exposed its Achilles' heel. Lives were lost and bonds were broken. Even time could not find and mend them. Pirika believes humanity's not the priority. Lyserg believes in either revenge or redemption. Yet, both are united because of Yoh's dream. Will they survive its actual reality?
1. White Coats

**Disclaimer: I DO NOT OWN SHAMAN KING! THIS STORY IS PURE F-A-N-F-I-C-K-S-I-O-N! Even the setting & plot for this fanfic isn't original! Heck! The title was also inspired (by Foxes song 'White Coats') XD  
**

**Warning!*** Crack pairing story!**** (Pirika/Lyserg)**

*****Pirika's age has been changed from 22 to 27! And some other time stuff has also been altered.  
**

* * *

**Background – 500 years ago, a scientific-research agency known as H.A.O lost control over 5 powerful weapons they created. Fire, Earth, Rain, Thunder, and Wind. However, the world was not threatened, only the human race was targeted. So to preserve themselves, the great nations united to implement the Haven project. The establishment of 100 new republics, each protected by an indestructible wall. Not everyone agreed with this solution of isolation, and 'Eden's' gates could only open to a maximum number of inhabitants. **

**Therefore, to appease the opinionated and prevent a international cry of injustice, the great nations enforced a selective service known as the SK Program. The drafted was an 'equal' number of people with militaristic/scientific/professional backgrounds and people with criminal history/uncompensated federal debt. The chosen were obligated to live outside of the Havens in order to 'fight' for humanity. The great nations had public buildings and even small towns transformed into 'secure' base facilities and guaranteed a shipment of sufficient and essential supplies every decade. **

**Nonetheless, those inside of the Havens saw a injustice in this system. The rebels' attempt to find a 'cure' to 'mankind's affliction' underhandedly led to the fall of 68 republics and left 32 republics to initiate a reformation. Thus, to prevent a second catastrophe, the representatives of each Haven collaborated to initiate a special-operations program known as Oracle.**

**Summary - Haven-13 was their home. But their home was not invincible. And the disaster of the Oracle-5 program exposed its Achilles' heel. Lives were lost and bonds were broken. Even time could not find and mend them. Pirika believes humanity's not the priority. Lyserg believes in either revenge or redemption. Yet, both are united because of Yoh's dream. Will they survive its actual reality?**

* * *

**...Basically, this a (sorta) graphic survival story... So rated T cause of a HANDFUL OF VIOLENCE/potentially corny, fluff dialogue/little to zero crude language/... little to zero sexual content **(*≧∀≦*)

**Genres are Mystery/Adventure/Romance/ Drama/Sci-Fi/Fantasy...**

* * *

**White Coats**

* * *

(_Italicized words ~ Pirika [age-27] P.O.V_)

_A person can live many lives in one lifetime and still not understand his purpose. Why was he born? To that mother and father? To be raised with that younger sister?_

A wisp of clouds fails to hide the afternoon sun, yet a chilling cold has settled in the washed-out streets of the city slums.

The unsightly neighborhood is yet congested.

And since it's noon, children in thick coats play hooky in alleyways, most family run shops are open, and the youth and adults walk about in a mix of purpose and habit. Those with the cash buy what is essential.

Thrift stores display racks of mundane clothes on the stained sidewalk. Bakeries mostly sell bread and sugared breads. Barbershops and 'haircutters' with tall and short electric heaters and gossip spilling from fiery lips. A quaint pharmacy here and there, and all the doors and windows are barred with silver. Local grocers have long moved their stands of fruits and vegetables inside their stores, while their employee attends the register. Pet shops are a rarity, and their glass cages hold the smallest animals.

Yet, more people do the selling than the buying.

And even a handful of people do nothing 'valuable' in the day. The low-class apartments above these shops all have windows that don't give way to the prying eye. White blinds, old-fashioned sheer curtains, dressers and wardrobes blocking the view, and slanting wooden boards nailed to the walls are common methods of keeping the privacy.

But since its winter, only a few windows are open, but most walls are thin that the people have become accustomed to the everyday street noise. One particular window is bare.

_To tend the butterbur fields?_

To the left of that window is a white bed with a barred headboard. And, a thin, white sheet covered two sleeping persons. One is a young man; dressed only in boxer-briefs. The other is a young woman; dressed only in cropped tights and a bra.

Yet, since it's noon, enough light pasts through the dirty glass panels, revealing the faint, yellow walls and brown, wooden floorboards.

Across from the bed is a door that has two locks and peeling yellow paint. A few feet to the right of the double-locked door is a vacant green, plastic chair. And across from the fragile chair, on the wall adjacent to the locked door, is a door that has been opened to expose a small and completely tiled bathroom. A yellowish-white sink stands to the left, and then to its left is a yellowish-white toilet with both seats up, and then to the high left of the toilet is a leaking, rusted shower-head.

A water drop forms, teasing time as it prepares to fall. When it drops, the sound of vehicles coming to an abrupt stop is shortly followed by a man's voice shouting out orders.

_To make irreplaceable friendships? To experience loss? _

Then there is a faint sound of a door being forced open from below.

In the space underneath the bed, two, dark and bulky travel backpacks are nestled against each other.

The thundering sound of footsteps coming up the old apartment building's rectangular-spiral staircase wakes the young woman.

_To believe his hatred would continuously feed his grudge and defend his unwillingness to feel compassion and to forgive once again?_

Pirika had slept on her right side, and now that she's awake, with her brow furrowed and heart thumping anxiously in chest as her ears keenly listened to the thundering disturbance, she apprehensively stares at the sleeping face of the young man beside her.

Her mind races in formulating a possible plan of action, but she angrily cries at herself internally, because her legs felt frozen and her back ached.

She hears the thundering footsteps halt, and as she begins to imagine the double-locked door being kicked open, she takes in a breath and forces her left arm to move so her hand gently touches the young man's cheek.

And she whispers, "Lyserg!"

_To become a soldier? To fight? To disappear? _

_ To leave me behind with the ruin? _

Pirika hears the door bang loudly against the wall, and Lyserg finally wakes up.

The old floorboards creak angrily; she feels the white sheet lifted off of them, and then she feels someone grab her around the waist and drag her limp body away from the bed. And she sees Lyserg also being pulled away from the bed by the intruders. Intruders armored in the old SWAT uniform, but each with a red band around the left arm. Feeling the more horrified, Pirika yells and her body tenses, which her captors did not expect and she is able to forcefully push them back.

But then, she felt something hard and sharp smack against her temple and she blackens out from the blow and falls limp to the floor.

Enraged, Lyserg yells her name.

_ A person like me wishes for more independence. For myself to hold a stern belief in an undeniable free will. Maybe I'm too tolerant and accepting. Maybe my blind obedience is the problem. I can only hope obedience could soon be 'was'. Though, I know this change will be long delayed, because I do believe my values determine what I can contribute in my search, in our search. _

_ He is burdened with a similar problem as mine. Though, for now we are each other's strengths, I do not believe in 'forever'. I never had. A wise woman taught me this, and I have experienced this loss. _

_ For now I believe my purpose is to find them with him. _

_To fight with him._

* * *

An almost starless night sky and its white, gibbous moon overlook the bright city below. A city surrounded by low mountains. Dense forests of coniferous trees grow on these sloped terrains.

A hundred yards beyond these forested mountains is a black wall, measuring four hundred-and-two meters tall. This immense wall encompasses around the whole of the forested mountains that envelop the city.

The city's wall is a testament to man's doubt in the protection from nature, from the unknown.

…

Pirika wakes when she feels ice-cold liquid hit her face. Immediately after, she hears someone walking away from her and a door creaking open and then slamming shut. She closes her eyes with a furrowed brow as she coughs out water that had traveled up into her nose. Her heart was racing.

"Pirika."

She hears Lyserg's whisper come from somewhere behind her, and her tight brow gradually relaxes.

"Where are we?" She whispers back.

When she looks ahead of her she sees that against the wooden wall is a small lantern emitting a dim, bluish light. Looking up, she sees a sloping, wooden ceiling. Glancing to the right, she sees a poorly boarded window, and through the widest gap, Pirika could make out in the darkness of night that some feet away are what looked to be evergreen trees.

"This shack must be their checkpoint area." Lyserg whispers decisively.

Feeling a little cold in her chest area, Pirika glances down at herself and sees water dripping down her neckline area towards the bra she wore. She remembers that she was taken wearing only her underwear and cropped tights.

Disturbed and a little infuriated, she then realizes she's sitting but her body is restrained to that chair by rope.

Still looking down, she whispers, "Whose?"

"…Shaft's."

She sees the thick ropes tightly binding her upper arms to her side and another bunch of rope around her waist area, which must be what's keeping her upper body from leaning away from the chair. She feels rope binding her ankles to the chair's front legs. Despite the restraints, she could move her thighs and some of her lower legs, and she could slightly move the rest of her lower arms and hands.

However, she felt that even the slightest movement caused the rope at her waist area to tighten uncomfortably.

Her brow furrows when she realizes something, and she turns her head to the right and she whispers, "Lyserg, where are you?"

"…Right behind you." He whispers. Feeling relief, Pirika's frown becomes a small grin.

They were both tied to chairs, but are back-to-back, and Pirika could safely assume that the rope at her waist extended beyond the back of her chair to wrap around Lyserg's waist as well.

"How long were you up?" She whispers.

Lyserg stares at the wooden wall across from him. The wall is enveloped in shadows, because the small lantern from Pirika's side emits too weak of a light.

"… Since this afternoon."

Pirika's brow furrows as she glances down at the dark, wooden floorboards. She remembers how she had felt a blow to her head and had blackened out right after.

"They blindfolded me once you were taken out… but I counted the time while we were on the road. About four hours and forty-three minutes. We should be a few miles from the wall."

The coniferous forests are roughly one hour from the ghetto.

Pirika glanced down at her bare feet. The floorboard underneath her felt rough and cold. "… It's true then… there are still no patrols in this side of the wall… but… but it's confusing. Even with the loose security in this sector of the city, I thought the smugglers would work underground. And after all our time spent in those godforsaken tunnels; risking our lives to finding nothing every time–It really was a waste. "_They found us instead. _

Lyserg chuckles softly.

Pirika raises an eyebrow. "What is it?"

He says kindly, "I've lost track of time some while ago, but… it may be past midnight already."

"…oh…" Pirika glances up and stares into the faint bluish rays emitted by the small lantern a few feet in front of her. Her hands gently clenching as she feels remorse and happiness simultaneously.

Lyserg leans his head back until his gently touches the back of her head. Feeling guilt and yet calming nostalgia as well, he whispers, "Three…Two… One…"

Pirika smiles softly, whispering, "…Fight."

Lyserg grins as he says softly, "Happy twenty-seventh, Pirika."

"We're late." Pirika whispers with a sad grin.

The door to their left opens and three armed persons in SWAT uniforms with a red band around the left arm enter; they were shortly followed by a tall person also wearing a SWAT uniform with the red band. The first three guards stand around Lyserg and Pirika, pointing their guns at the duo, while the fourth to enter stood to the left of his prisoners, a few feet from the door closed securely behind him by a guard outside the shack.

Pirika eyes the gun only a few inches from her forehead, but is a little taken back when she sees that two of the guards were carrying familiar looking backpacks. Lyserg notices this as well.

The fourth guard takes off his helmet, revealing sleek black hair framing handsome features, and when he smirks he exposes stunningly white teeth that contrasted with his dark beard. Lyserg's eyes narrow in disbelief. He may know this man.

With a stern expression, the man says, "The original decision was to execute you both at this time, but there has been a last minute change to verify you both are not with the White Coats. And we're still pressed on time, thus Shaft will not endanger fifteen of their men for imposters."

"Why doubt us?" Pirika mutters as she glares at the gun. "Your scouts must have found our packages. And you know they're the real thing, otherwise your men wouldn't have tracked us down and brought us here."

The man's smirk disappears as he says to both of them, "I'm here to verify that you two are not the missing people you both claim to be."

Pirika glances at the man and says bitterly, "If you've figure that out, then why have us spirited away."

The man's brow furrowed as he says seriously, "Listen. Your answers to this question will determine whether you live. It's important that both of you think before you answer. Even a simple statement, no matter how verifiable it may be, is not enough without detail. … Good. Now the question…. Who are you?"

Lyserg frowns but he answers sternly, "Lyserg Diethel."

"If that is your only answer, then you're at a disadvantage." The man says with his brow furrowed as he pulls out a handgun and points it at Lyserg's head, "Your name will not save you. Go on."

Lyserg glares intently at the man, "Lyserg Diethel. I'm one of the ninety survivors of the Oracle-Five disaster, which occurred twelve years ago in Haven-13… Shortly after, I was recruited into the X-Law program in H25, and I graduated four years later to work as a government agent... I was released after two years for the charge of discrepancy. "

"Is that it?" The man asks; his brow still furrowed. "Okay then. Young woman, you're next."

"Pirika Usui. My older brother, Horokeu Usui, was a survivor of the same Oracle-Five disaster in H13. I remained in H13 until a year ago."

"Is that all for you?"

"Yes." Pirika says sternly, but she could feel sweat forming at her temple. Lyserg apprehensively eyes the man's gun as he points it at Pirika.

The man unlocks the safety to his gun as does the other three guards, and Pirika tightly clenches her fists. He says almost apologetically, "If you are not Pirika Usui, I will have to kill you"

"We have already proven everything." Pirika says, indignant. "Someone who claims to be pressed on time should accept the facts when he hears it. There should be boundaries to an interrogation to prevent time-wasting talk. People have a right to keep the irrelevant history to themselves."

The man lowers his gun, his brow still furrowed but his gaze saddens as he says, "These facts are too generic. And although the packages are the real things, they're not enough to save you. Plus, even if you're not imposters, there will still be precautions to take since Lyserg Diethel is a former White Coat. It will be difficult for anyone to trust a traitor."

Pirika glares anxiously at the floor, whereas Lyserg stares blankly into the shadows that shrouded the wooden wall across from him, and then he says, "You mention Lyserg Diethel being a traitor. "

The man turns his head towards Lyserg, an irritated expression on his face, and retorts, "You've had your turn to speak."

Pirika's brow furrowed as she came to a realization.

"Lyserg's betrayal could not be a generic fact." Pirika says solemnly as she glances back up at the man, who then looks at her questioningly. "Joining the X-Laws doesn't classify a person as a traitor… but to Lyserg's friends, it was."

While Looking up at the man, Pirika began to notice how familiar his beard, his eyes, and black hair were. She feels as if she is about to discover a lost friend when she says reluctantly, "Lyserg Diethel... he betrayed my brother, HoroHoro... He betrayed Joco, and…."

Pirika feels a painful jolt in her chest and her vision began to blur as she continues to glare at the man, at this man who-

Lyserg glances up at the man with a furrowed brow, and says remorsefully, "Eight years ago, Lyserg Diethel betrayed his friends. The people he is searching for... Horohoro, Joco, Ren, Faust, Manta… Yoh, and Ryu…I… I'm sorry… Ryu."

Ryu glares at Lyserg, and then he glances at the three other guards and said reluctantly, "…Give them their bags. Two of you should remain here to see that they change quickly into their proper gear... We'll be out in five."


	2. Who are We? (I)

**Disclaimer: I DO NOT OWN SHAMAN KING! THIS STORY IS PURE F-A-N-F-I-C-K-S-I-O-N! Even the setting & plot for this fanfic isn't original! Heck! The title was also inspired (by Foxes song 'White Coats') XD**

**Warning!*** Crack pairing story!**** (Pirika/Lyserg)**

* * *

**Background – 500 years ago, a scientific-research agency known as H.A.O lost control over 5 powerful weapons they created. Fire, Earth, Rain, Thunder, and Wind. However, the world was not threatened, only the human race was targeted. So to preserve themselves, the great nations united to implement the Haven project. The establishment of 100 new republics, each protected by an indestructible wall. Not everyone agreed with this solution of isolation, and 'Eden's' gates could only open to a maximum number of inhabitants. **

**Therefore, to appease the opinionated and prevent a international cry of injustice, the great nations enforced a selective service known as the SK Program. The drafted was an 'equal' number of people with militaristic/scientific/professional backgrounds and people with criminal history/uncompensated federal debt. The chosen were obligated to live outside of the Havens in order to 'fight' for humanity. The great nations had public buildings and even small towns transformed into 'secure' base facilities and guaranteed a shipment of sufficient and essential supplies every decade. **

**Nonetheless, those inside of the Havens saw a injustice in this system. The rebels' attempt to find a 'cure' to 'mankind's affliction' underhandedly led to the fall of 68 republics and left 32 republics to initiate a reformation. Thus, to prevent a second catastrophe, the representatives of each Haven collaborated to initiate a special-operations program known as Oracle.**

**Summary - Haven-13 was their home. But their home was not invincible. And the disaster of the Oracle-5 program exposed its Achilles' heel. Lives were lost and bonds were broken. Even time could not find and mend them. Pirika believes humanity's not the priority. Lyserg believes in either revenge or redemption. Yet, both are united because of Yoh's dream. Will they survive its actual reality?**

* * *

**Whites Coats_Who are We?**

* * *

(_Italicized words ~ Pirika [age-27] P.O.V_)

Ryu turns to leave the shack without having glanced at either of them. Shortly after him, one of the other three guards leaves as well. The door closes behind the guard with a soft thud. Lyserg continues to stare, blankly, at the space in front of the door, where Ryu had once stood. Pirika hangs her head low so that her bangs and long hair could assist in hiding her distressed expression. She's biting her lower lip as her brow furrows and her eyes gleam with bitter tears.

_We did not expect to find him… and despite what Lyserg said… we didn't really need Ryu… yet, I remember feeling at that time… heartache… and shame._

Although Pirika wouldn't allow her tears to fall, she inspires conspicuously. And just as she raises her head, a guard (since there are two still with them) pulls out a knife and begins cutting at their ropes. Keeping her face stoic, Pirika glares intently at the small lantern across from her. The bluish light irritates her for some unknown reason.

_It was difficult to focus on the questions I had about Ryu when I was feeling that way about Lyserg_

_… About our relationship… _

_The last time I had seen and conversed with Ryu was when I was thirteen._

_ I was a girl then. _

_I'm a different person now, but Ryu only knows what I didn't do and what Lyserg did. _

Lyserg's attention is deeply focused on analyzing what had transpired, so he is only faintly aware of the sounds from the blade cutting against the coarse threads of their binds. When the guard finishes with the ropes at their ankles, the other guard drops the backpack he carried in front of Lyserg.

_How I came to be with Lyserg. _

_... Our story…_

The loud thud brought Lyserg to forget his pondering and glance up at the guard, who says brashly, "Your stuff. We've checked them thoroughly for weapons, so all you'll find in there are your clothes. That's all you need for where we're taking you."

Lyserg looks away from the guard, and then bends over to pick up the backpack. As he stands up to place his bag on the chair, Pirika also stands. She glances expectantly at the guard who had cut their ropes, since he still has her backpack.

Though, immediately after the guard hands it over to her, he says, " If we see any rummaging for items other than your apparel, don't be shocked if we suddenly frisk you."

… _Our story can be easily misunderstood…_

_But Ryu is a connection to my past, when my life was good._

_I couldn't wait to get out of that shack._

"Of course." Pirika says with a forced grin, and dropping the bag on her chair, she glances worriedly at Lyserg, who leans over his backpack to unzip it.

_Yet I was afraid to tell Ryu; to explain to him our story…_

Lyserg takes out a compression sweater. Then, standing straight, he puts it on. However, the sweater's neckline isn't high enough to hide the black tattoo on the nape of his neck.

_Because I hate… _

_I hated the stigma that came with helping the traitor._

Branded into the back of his neck is a simple cross overlapping the letter 'Z'.

* * *

Carrying her bulky backpack, Pirika steps out of the shack and into the night.

Her worn boots press on long, frosted grass and hardened dirt, and the chilled air gently stings her cheeks.

A forest of tall evergreens surround the small clearing they are in. The shack and two, huge black vans, which are parked several feet across from her and Lyserg, seem out of place in this sanctuary of dense outgrowth.

Pirika glances behind her, and watches the last of the guards walk out of the shack and help another guard lock the old, wooden door with a rusted chain. When the guards finish their task, Pirika faces forward just as they turn around.

Lyserg, who is standing to Pirika's right, glances sideways at her. He whispers to her, "Are you nervous?"

Pirika looks ahead of her, impassively watching three guards conversing and another opening the backdoors of the black van on the left. How many Shaft guys are there?

She answers quietly, "After four months outside the walls, and eighty-one days spelunking…no… but, I would feel safer if we had our means of defense…"

"Spelunking, heh." Lyserg grins. "You remembered."

Pirika blushes faintly as she tries to whisper seriously, "You talked a lot in those tunnels. I guess the echoes only made your stories of cave exploration more memorable."

"Yet, those abandoned subways are nothing compared to actual caverns…" Lyserg whispers kindly. "… It's important that we remember what people did before this kind of life."

Pirika's brow furrows a little. She has always admired how Lyserg could apply the things he read about to their lives, but she has also always felt that these stories are wasted on her.

The wonders of history and the prospect of a future don't matter to her. She believes and lives in the reality of the present.

Nevertheless, whenever their circumstances were very uncomfortable or even life endangering, she would always find herself wishing the present to be just her lying close to Lyserg as he calms her anxious heart with those stories.

The stories weren't always fascinating, and she could even tolerate the dull ones if she closed her eyes and concentrated on his soothing voice, but as soon as she began to drift off to sleep, she would wake to a teasing comment and her cheek being lightly pinched. And then she would argue a little with him, which almost always led to-

Pirika frowns. A little surprised, and embarrassed, that she almost lost her focus to a memory rerun, Pirika decides to focus on counting their prospective enemies or allies.

There are undeniably more than the four that were with Ryu earlier.

If only they would take off those dam.n helmets. Seeing their faces would make her more at ease, and probably more empathizing, since, if there would be a need to survive, then she would struggle with forgetting how they had dragged them out of the apartment.

"I would have never guessed it would be Ryu that we'd randomly meet in a different haven." She whispers. "Why would he have joined Shaft–do you think he knows about Black Jaguar?"

Lyserg's brow furrows as the engine and headlights turn on in the black van on the right. "Ryu lived up to his ideals… He must have been involved in an underground rebel-group back at H13, and judging from his act back there, its' also possible that he had been a rebel leader himself. Even if all we've been following are mostly gossip and rumors, one common knowledge about Shaft is that they expand by taking in the smaller, lesser-known rebel-groups. And Joco had always warned him..."

The three guards conversing by the vans suddenly stop, and two walk over to the black van on the right. However, the third walks towards them, holding what looked like short, dark-red sashes in one hand.

Looking downcast, Pirika murmurs, "This shouldn't be a eye-opener, but… now that's nine to the list… Another friend from home… risking everything for the obliteration of thirty-two walls."

Lyserg frowns, and he glances back when he hears the two guards by the shack begin to walk up to them.

They were going to blindfold them. Well…

Pirika glances sideways at him as she grabs his hand. She whispers determinedly, "They better not think about separating us."

* * *

The back of the van is dark, but the space is wide and on the driver's side of the vehicle is a long, smooth seat. There are no seatbelts, but Pirika and Lyserg sit close to each other; both squished between two, armed guards. Their backpacks are flattened between their backs and the wall of the van. Across from them, four other guards sit on the floor of the van.

Both are blindfolded, but Lyserg's fingers are interlocked with Pirika's.

The ride has initially been rough as there are numerous bumps. After an estimated time of thirty-seven minutes, there is a stop that lasts for five minutes, and both hear loud, incoherent voices outside the vehicle. Then, the van begins to move again. However, the journey proves to be short-lived since Pirika feels the vehicle come to a gradual stop after an estimated count of three minutes.

They could still be in the forests. Judging by feeling of the vehicle going at a downward movement in the last few minutes, they must have traveled…

Lyserg gives her hand a brief squeeze when they hear the backdoors of their van open. Subsequently, they feel the vehicle slightly shake due the other passengers moving out.

Pirika frowns as she feels the guard, who is sitting on her right, grab her arm. Although the guard rushes her out of the vehicle, Lyserg is quick to closely follow her. When she drops from the van, the guard lets her arm go.

Upon landing, she expected to hear the crunch of frosted grass and crusted dirt beneath her boots, but she feels smooth ground.

Lyserg stands closely beside Pirika on her left side. His fingers remain intertwined with hers. He notices an old and damp, earthly smell that is definitely nothing like the smell of a coniferous forest.

Pirika feels someone roughly grab her arm and drag her away from Lyserg, whose intervention is prevented by two guards forcefully holding him still. Disconcerted, Pirika stops abruptly, and hears the guard behind her curse.

No sooner has she been separated from Lyserg does she hear him say angrily, "What's the meaning of this?! We go together."

Then they hear Ryu's voice. "She'll be fine. We're under orders to keep you two separated until the Black Jaguar is ready to see you both."

"This is unnecessary." Lyserg claims. "Our deal is simple. We've already paid the price for a meeting with Black Jaguar."

"I know fully well you have." Ryu says in strained tone, which Pirika does not fail to take note of.

So she interjects, "We've risked our lives for those things. And even after the kidnapping and interrogation, we're still here. Aren't those actions good enough for your rebel-leaders to trust us?"

"Please.. Please don't make my job difficult." Ryu says. "You four. Take her away."

... They would have no choice but to abide and—

"No." Pirika says adamantly, "You can't just—."

"Start walking. Now!" Says the guard who has hold of her arm.

Agitated, she yells, "Just wait—!"

Suddenly, she feels what must be the tip of that guard's gun lightly pushing against her side, and then she hears the click of that gun's safety turn off—

Shi.t

Alarmed, Lyserg swiftly kneels to kick the guard on his right off his feet, and then, as he bolts back up, he elbows the guard on his left.

Dam.n it! The guard didn't mean to—!

Pirika took off her blindfold. She had to stop him before he—!

"What the hell?!" A guard yells.

The first thing Pirika sees is the back of a guard, but then she glances to her left and sees—!

Ryu yells. "Stop-!"

The guard beside Pirika steps back and turns left to aim his gun at Lyserg.

She sees Lyserg's back, and she runs for him—

Pirika yells, "Lyser—!"

_No more misunderstandings..._

An agonizing pain pulsates in her lower leg, and Pirika is jolted towards cold concrete.

_No more poor decisions._


	3. Who are We? (II)

**Disclaimer: I DO NOT OWN SHAMAN KING! THIS STORY IS PURE F-A-N-F-I-C-K-S-I-O-N! Even the setting & plot for this fanfic isn't original! Heck! The title was also inspired (by Foxes song 'White Coats') XD**

**Warning!*** Crack pairing story!**** (Pirika/Lyserg)**

* * *

**Background – 500 years ago, a scientific-research agency known as H.A.O lost control over 5 powerful weapons they created. Fire, Earth, Rain, Thunder, and Wind. However, the world was not threatened, only the human race was targeted. So to preserve themselves, the great nations united to implement the Haven project. The establishment of 100 new republics, each protected by an indestructible wall. Not everyone agreed with this solution of isolation, and 'Eden's' gates could only open to a maximum number of inhabitants. **

**Therefore, to appease the opinionated and prevent a international cry of injustice, the great nations enforced a selective service known as the SK Program. The drafted was an 'equal' number of people with militaristic/scientific/professional backgrounds and people with criminal history/uncompensated federal debt. The chosen were obligated to live outside of the Havens in order to 'fight' for humanity. The great nations had public buildings and even small towns transformed into 'secure' base facilities and guaranteed a shipment of sufficient and essential supplies every decade. **

**Nonetheless, those inside of the Havens saw a injustice in this system. The rebels' attempt to find a 'cure' to 'mankind's affliction' underhandedly led to the fall of 68 republics and left 32 republics to initiate a reformation. Thus, to prevent a second catastrophe, the representatives of each Haven collaborated to initiate a special-operations program known as Oracle.**

* * *

**White Coats_Who are We?**

* * *

_(__Italicized words ~ Pirika [age-27] P.O.V_)

_The pain from when the bullet pierced into my calf was not the worse I've experienced. _

_I've been shot before. _

_Twice. Remember? The first time was when I was thirteen. The second time was when I protected you. _

_I needed to be in the field with you, but there were a handful of situations that unfairly conveyed the reality of me. I'm not invincible. I almost died from the second shot. And after that, I wasn't anticipating another. _

_But, I remember thinking the instant I was hit that if the shock or the bleeding didn't kill me, then I would be so grateful._

Pirika's pupils dilate as she stares at the gray concrete that would cushion her fall, but then she sees a pair of hands reaching out to her. A moment after, she knows Lyserg is holding her. Pirika closes her eyes and lets out an inaudible gasp.

She hears a man's angry words and another bark an order. While Pirika hears Ryu's stern response, she feels Lyserg gently lays her down on her back. The rough surface of the ground beneath her is bitterly cold. Her face has been scrunched in agony, but she slowly begins to open her eyes.

Lyserg kneels by her left side, and then he tightly ties the long red sash, which originally served as his blindfold, right below her knee. He then takes off his backpack and places it on his left side so he could take out a thin bandage roll from a side pocket. Blood still pools out from under Pirika's wounded calf. His face is grave. Lyserg hastily binds up Pirika's wound, but he doesn't hold back on tightening it.

Ryu silently walks over to Lyserg's right side and bends down on one knee, solemnly glancing at Lyserg's blood stained fingers tightening the gauze bandage around Pirika's lower leg.

Ryu glances at Lyserg and says with a furrowed brow, "A medic van will be here in a few minutes… You acted quickly."

"I suppose we'll still be separated." Lyserg mutters seriously, and then he securely tucks away the end of the bandage under a fold.

Ryu glances away, and blankly glares ahead at one of the many thick pillars that melded up into the heavy, arching ceiling above them. The high, arching ceiling gradually changes downwards into sturdy walls that seem to encompass them like a circle. On the opposite side of the dome are three arched entranceways into dimly lit tunnels that, like the gaps between the rows of pillars, are wide enough for a hug van to pass through. And on either side of every pillar, at their midsection, are flat, circular lights that also dimly emanate a pale glow.

"Understand that you're the main security risk." Ryu says solemnly. "…Actually, this isn't the first time a former agent has come to us… and the outcome is usually a attempted betrayal."

Lyserg places one hand atop Pirika's bandaged lower leg. He says to his blood stained fingers, "I suppose they never got as far as I did."

"You suppose…" Ryu murmurs. He looks down at Pirika, and feels almost disgruntled at seeing the pained expression on her face.

Will the plan for these two be changed? Even Ryu's unreliable memory truthfully reminds him at that moment how smart Lyserg was as a boy. Ryu could not even muster up the courage, let alone an idea, to deceive him. Lyserg would soon figure out where and what this dome is.

"eh…Lyserg.." Pirika whispers, her chin slightly quivering. With her brow furrowed, Pirika appears to look up at the arched ceiling in disgust.

Lyserg glances to his right, and even with the furrow in his brow, Ryu sees that there's almost a motherly gentleness to Lyserg's expression.

Thinking it rude to listen in on what Ryu felt would be a personal conversation, he stands up and walks over to the right, where four of his men stand by one of the black vans that brought them into the subterranean dome.

"Is the bleeding worse...erh…better?" Pirika asks softly as she partly wonders why the ceiling looks dome-like. Where are they?

"Better." Lyserg says reassuringly, and he even grins a little, but of course, Pirika wouldn't be able to see his face. "If you didn't hear Ryu, a medic team is on th~."

"I'm sorry." Pirika says abruptly.

Lyserg's grin is replaced with a small frown, and he says thoughtfully, "We didn't underestimate the danger in this plan, but maybe the fear was too big that after that unexpected decision, we choked… I'm sorry… I pushed us into this."

Pirika smiles weakly, and to Lyserg's surprise, two tears quickly fall after she closes her eyes.

Pirika whispers with an amused and partly sad tone, "I helped you smuggle five kyonshi into this haven, but… I wanted you to change your mind… Lyserg?"

Lyserg is silent as he mulls over the plan, Pirika's injury, Ryu, and the enigma that is Black Jaguar.

Pirika is undeterred by his silence, and although feeling a fatigue sweep through her body, she says surely, "You're usually right about things, so… What we're doing will be enough…"

_I wasn't that helpful then. I couldn't even fight against it, because the moment I fell asleep I saw…_

_We're fighting for him. For his name. For his future. And we're wining. Right?_


	4. Who are We? (III)

**Disclaimer: **I DO NOT OWN SHAMAN KING! THIS STORY IS PURE F-A-N-F-I-C-K-S-I-O-N! Even the setting & plot for this fanfic isn't original! Heck! The title was also inspired (by Foxes song 'White Coats') XD

********WARNING!***** Crack pairing story!**** (Pirika/Lyserg)*****Will be updated AT MOST ONCE a week from now on!*****There could be a handful of/a few grammatical errors and mistakes*****  
**

* * *

**(Background)**

**500 years ago, a scientific-research agency known as H.A.O lost control over 5 powerful weapons they created. Fire, Earth, Rain, Thunder, and Wind. However, the world was not threatened, only the human race was targeted. So to preserve themselves, the great nations united to implement the Haven project. The establishment of 100 new republics, each protected by an indestructible wall. Not everyone agreed with this solution of isolation, and 'Eden's' gates could only open to a maximum number of inhabitants. **

**Therefore, to appease the opinionated and prevent a international cry of injustice, the great nations enforced a selective service known as the SK Program. The drafted was an 'equal' number of people with militaristic/scientific/professional backgrounds and people with criminal history/uncompensated federal debt. The chosen were obligated to live outside of the Havens in order to 'fight' for humanity. The great nations had public buildings and even small towns transformed into 'secure' base facilities and guaranteed a shipment of sufficient and essential supplies every decade. **

**Nonetheless, those inside of the Havens saw a injustice in this system. The rebels' attempt to find a 'cure' to 'mankind's affliction' underhandedly led to the fall of 68 republics and left 32 republics to initiate a reformation. Thus, to prevent a second catastrophe, the representatives of each Haven collaborated to initiate a special-operations program known as Oracle.**

* * *

**White Coats_Who are We?**

* * *

(_Italicized words ~ Pirika [age-27] P.O.V_)

_I realize that I'm living more than one life. _

_The role I'm now in isn't what I truly want_

_And even though I know and hope that this part will be finished soon, I'm afraid of the next life after this. _

_The role I had to leave behind. But I will be back. I have to. _

_Why was he born? To live with a scar that punishes him with a false identity? To grow surrounded by uncertainty?_

_To give us that unconditional chance?_

_To help humanity progress? To contribute to their search?_

The instance she's aware, yellow light temporarily blinds Pirika as her eyelids slowly rise. She stares, wide-eyed with constricted pupils, at what she comes to liken to a surgical lamp. The surface underneath her hands feels like smooth, cool metal, but she feels that her head rests on a soft pillow. Momentarily, she remembers the gunshot wound in her left calf, and then her focus transfers over to a dire need to inspect her body.

She immediately props herself up on her elbows, and her panicked heart begins to relax once she sees that the medics took off all her clothing except the black, skin-tight sweater, and her cropped tights, although the lower, left side of the tights appears to have been cut off so that it now ends right above her knee.

Pirika sits up with no trouble, and as she brings her left knee up, her eyes and hand check the thin white bandages that are bind around the lower leg. There is a long, thin splotch of red at the area where the bullet had struck her calf. Her brow is furrowed but she lets out a quiet sigh of relief. She's alive.

She looks up, across from her to her left, and sees that she must be inside some sort of medic tent due to the large, print of a red cross right above the closed entrance.

"Hello." Says a deep, friendly voice that Pirika doesn't recognize to belong to anyone she knows. Her brow remains furrowed as she looks to her right.

Some feet away from her is an old man with sun-kissed skin and a face crinkled up in a smile. His straight, white hair reaches just past his ears, and his beard is just as straight and it extends some centimeters past his chin. His wrinkled right hand firmly holds a sturdy cane, but he appears to distribute his body weight evenly.

Judging by the long white coat he wears, Pirika assumes he's the doctor.

Behind the doctor is a rolling chair and a long desk, on which rests a rod-like table lamp beside a sleek laptop, and both are surrounded by an array of medical equipment. There are also three medic carts placed by the desk and a line of four metal-like boxes underneath the desk.

Still smiling, the doctor nods his head towards Pirika's bandaged leg and asks, "What do you think of my team's handiwork, hmm?"

The furrow in Pirika's brow disappears, and she replies cautiously, "It's… It's just what I needed. Thank you… um… you're?"

His smile goes away, but he says kindly, "Well, pretty miss, on professional terms, I'm the doctor who supervised your surgery, but personally, as a human being, I'm known as Orona."

Orona then tilts his head to his right as his smile disappears, and he glances down with a thoughtful look before glancing at Pirika once again. He grins this time, as he says almost humorously, "I believe the Black Jaguar will give me a tedious scolding for revealing this to you in his absence, but I don't really like how much of a strategist he has become… He was once my foster son, you see~"

Pirika's brow furrows as her eyes widen in realization.

"~And although Chocolove has become quite the rebel leader, sadly, he's forgotten how to laugh."

Orona looks proudly at Pirika's shocked-stricken face, being happily satisfied with the young woman's reaction.

Even though Pirika's looking right at the man called Orona, she isn't really seeing him, since her focus is consumed with emotional thoughts of success and relief. Black Jaguar is who they believed him to be. And they did make it to Shaft's headquarters.

"I would love to get to know you, but," Orona says happily, and Pirika finally sees and hears him again, "since you're fully awake, now I have to perform my duty as your doctor, like checking your vitals." He begins to walk over to her.

Pirika blinks, and she says understandingly, "Ah, yes. Of course." Then she brings her legs around, letting them hang over the metal table, just as Orona stands himself in front of her. The old doctor then looks to his left and grabs for a medical cart that was positioned right by the metal table Pirika sat upon.

The cart has many drawers, but on top of it is a white tray with neatly displayed equipment like a stethoscope, a thermometer inside a pristine, clear glass, and a reflex hammer. However, Orona first pulls out a small, silver pointer flashlight from an inner pocket of his doctor's coat.

The check-up was brief, and by the time Orona pushed back the medical cart to its right place by the metallic surgical table, Pirika's blankly staring down at her thighs with a look of uncertainty.

By the time she looks up, however, Orona has pushed away the rolling chair by the desk and is talking into a large, handheld transceiver.

"~Patient E2 is ready for transfer. Over."

As Orona puts the communicator down on the desk, and types something into the laptop, he says to Pirika, "They usually arrive in two minutes or less. Although you may already know this, you'll be taken to a separate interrogation room from you companion."

"It's fine…" Pirika says solemnly, as she still felt uneasy about the plan.

Orona turns to face Pirika, his face crinkling up in a smile again as he says kindly, "Yes, you'll be fine... Oh, the rest of your clothes are folded on that short stool to your left. Your backpack and boots are over there as well. Though, your pants have been thrown away. Instead of having the nurses change you into a new set of clothes, I just had one of them find you a new pair of pants. "

"Thank you." She says sincerely, and then she slowly gets down the surgical table and limps towards her belongings. Orona turns around to face the laptop once again, and he resumes typing something.

After Pirika has put on her thicker sweater, she picks up and unfolds what the nurse got her, a pair of thin, black sweat pants with a gray drawstring. It's probably not as durable as her jeans, but at least they're thin enough for her to tuck the ends into her boots.

When she's completely dressed in her attire and has set her backpack atop the stool, she glances back to her right to see Orona sitting down on the rolling chair with the hilt of his cane leaning against the desk beside him. Orona was staring at the plain wall of the tent with a thoughtful expression.

Pirkia's brow furrows but she glances away to put on her backpack.

"If you came here with a secret, I suggest you leave before meeting him." Pirika hears Orona suddenly says, and so she turns around to look at him questioningly.

Orona glances at her with a pensive look to his eyes, saying solemnly, "These rebels severely punish those who keep them ignorant… And despite your history with him, that's the past and for now, he is the Black Jaguar, and that makes him no exception to that custom."

Pirika's jaw flexes, but she tries to maintain a poker face as she solemnly nods in response. A warning? No. He couldn't have seen it.

Orona gives her a small smile of reassurance before turning his rolling chair around, so that he could type once again type into the laptop.

And despite herself, Pirika's right hand gently moves to hover over her lower abdomen.

He couldn't have seen it. She wants to believe that the nurses didn't try changing her into new clothes while she was unconscious, because she did wake up with her sweater and tights still on. Unless…

Pirika's hand moves swiftly back down by her side, but she bites her lower lip as she tries to subdue the irrational, itching feeling to unzip her jacket, pull up the layers of sweaters, while slightly pulling down the waistline hem of both the sweat pants and tights. All that so she could see the smiling line of whitened fibrous tissue that permanently marks her lower abdomen. The scar she received from giving life, while also trying to keep hers.

_I usually don't like to think about the past. But. He believed we could have that adult life he was deprived of. And. He pushed us to dream and work for that 'life'. _

_Did he give us his future?_

_Why?_

_Something went wrong…_

_He left us behind with a question._

* * *

Two armed men in dark attire (so not the SWAT uniform) stand on either side of Lyserg, who sits on a rusting chair placed in the center of the medium, square-shaped tent they are in. His backpack was taken from him, but has been placed right behind the chair.

Three, tall lanterns are placed randomly around them, and their yellow light reveals the color of the tent to be a faded white. Lyserg stands up from his chair when he sees the flaps of the entrance across from him move. Ryu enters the makeshift interrogation room.

For a brief moment, Ryu looks at Lyserg, and says nothing but his eyes appear to acknowledge his presence. Then he glances at the guards, and orders them to leave them be for the questioning. As the men leave, Lyserg sits back down on the chair, but Ryu remains where he stands.

"I apologize for the eighty minute wait, but Pirika just been transferred for questioning." Ryu says nonchalantly to Lyserg, although his eyes don't meet with the younger man's gaze. "The surgery went well…"

Lyserg looks at Ryu with an unreadable expression, but his mind and feelings are tinged with impatience and irritation.

Ryu then looks at Lyserg directly in the eyes, but his gaze seems blank. His brow furrows as he says, "Understand that this is just a method of precaution. So we can assure you came here for only one thing, and will leave here with a vow of silence."

Lyserg nods his head, his face suddenly readable due to his serious expression.

_I think… I know I am being selfish. _

And just like they rehearsed, when Ryu asked him the expected questions, Lyserg sincerely answers with straightforward explanations.

"Six years ago, I applied for a research position in the SK Program. I specifically requested for deployment at the Apache Research base, which is one of the few bases situated between the walls of a haven. Haven 13. Three months after I got notified of my acceptance, I met with the head researcher of the Apache base's K.V. Department. Konosuke Tachibana. He was a brilliant mentor, and despite being only seven years my senior, we quickly became good friends." Lyserg says thoughtfully.

"Pirika was deployed at the Apache base, into my department, about a year after I first started working. We both grew on good terms with Tachibana. However, just a year ago, when Tachibana was busy with preparations for the K.V.R. convention being held in H27, the severity of the expected typhoon caught us all off-guard. Everyone was so preoccupied with the travel preparations that we underestimated the magnitude of the storm's impact."

Ryu nods. Everything sounds believable.

"That night, Tachibana rescued both Pirika and I, but the labs were almost completely destroyed. In an attempt to save the digital files, Tachibana accidentally exposed a secret of his… He had duplicated archived information and had been sharing it with a number of rebel groups."

Lyserg's brow is furrowed over eyes that seem to glare too sharply into Ryu's.

"Despite his contribution to the research, there were still a handful of law-abiding workers at the base, and so Tachibana was reported…" Lyserg glances down and then says somberly, "We expected the authorities to take him away, as well as a thorough investigation of the entire base… But what we got was a quick visit from two government officials, and their departure was accompanied with a sniper bullet to Tachibana's chest."

Ryu's serious expression remains unfazed, having already become used to hearing similar stories that revealed the conspiratorial nature of the system.

"Not long after his burial, Tachibana's family was targeted. His wife, twelve-year-old son, and niece all lived at the base. Both women were also researchers. And they were killed in the same manner, but the niece got to us right before it was her turn. She begged us to hide away Tachibana's son."

Ryu glances away for a second, thinking that the validity of Lyserg's story seems so undeniable because it's in fact very common for cases such as this. … It would be harder for them to smell out the rat…

"So we hid the child somewhere else in H13. That's all we can do for now, until Shaft can gives us the access into the government census. Once the boy receives a new identity, we plan to send him away to H27, to a good friend of ours. Although he's also associated with one of the rebel groups Tachibana traded with, he had took the initiative to call us about adopting the kid."

Ryu asks abruptly, "And after everything you'll normally resume your jobs at the Apache base?"

Lyserg looks at him with a pensive glare. "Yes… Our current absence is masked by the pretense that we're on a field expedition… This is why we came into this haven with counterfeit IDs, which we had paid for from a smaller rebel group back in H13."

Ryu crosses his arms, but a contemplative expression is on his face. "You risk the new lives you both have worked so hard to build just to save a child who's not even yours?"

_Is this what depravity feels like? _

A defensive look flashes in Lyserg's eyes, but it vanishes with his solemn words, "His father risked his life trying to save us during the typhoon. This is a favor I must return."

_But what I know about 'forever' has changed. I never believed in it. Now, I know I'm frightened by it._


End file.
